


Not That Much of an Asshole

by Petchricor



Series: DBH oneshots [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hateful Language, I imagine they have a 'only I can call him that' brother relationship after it all, Kinda, almost gets hit by a car, connor gets tossed around a bit, not everyone would be chill with it we all know that, protestors being dicks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 22:24:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14923988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Petchricor/pseuds/Petchricor
Summary: Despite how peacefully everything had seemed to end after the revolution not everyone was satisfied with the new status quo





	Not That Much of an Asshole

Months after everything had happened life in Detroit had returned to normal for the most part, human returning to the city to live among what Androids remained. There were still protestors that would yell as loudly as possible that androids were nothing more than machines, that they didn’t feel anything. Some thought they needed to be put back in their place, others believed they needed to be eradicated completely, that they were just going to rise up and take over the world or something equally absurd.

Connor had learned to ignore these protestors, how to slip passed without them noticing him. There were a multitude of tricks that got him through the streets of Detroit and to the station safely whenever he passed them. Give them a wide girth but don’t seem to be actively avoiding them or else they’ll take that as a challenge. Don’t look at them, especially not in the eye, they’ll take that as a challenge too. Walk with his LED facing away from them or covered by his hair, so they couldn’t tell he wasn’t human.

It was ridiculous of course but Connor preferred to avoid conflict altogether if he could help it.

All these tactics failed him one morning when he was running late. He wasn’t sure which was off schedule, him or the bus, but either way he’d missed it and walking put him ten minutes behind what he’d anticipated. He’d bumped into more people than he’d have liked, apologizing to each one as sincerely as he could without losing pace.

By the time he’d realized one of them had been a protestor the man already had him by the collar of his jacket. The others grouped with him egged him on as he tossed Connor onto the pavement, sending his satchel flying. Without comment he rose to his feet and went to grab it, only for a women wearing a ‘we dont bleed the same color’ shirt to grab it from him.

“I need to get to work,” he said calmly, reaching for the bag. She pulled it out of reach and when he went to grab it again he found himself yanked back by one of the other protestors.

“What’s the matter, tin can? Can’t take a few humans?” one of them taunted, giving him a rough shove that almost sent him into oncoming traffic. He could very easily take them, in fact his mind palace had already come up with a dozen ways to do just that, but he preferred to avoid conflict.

“I am late for work,” he reaffirmed, ignoring their laughter. “Please, return my satchel.” The woman tossed it to one of her friends, who opened it and looked inside. Connor felt something well up in his chest, something that made him step forward rather violently and his LED flash orange. “Hey, that’s mine!” A few of them looked nervous but the rest didn’t pay him any mind as they continued to look through his bag.

“Freaks like you dont get to have possessions,” the first man sneered, shoving Connor towards traffic once again. “You _are_ a possession, stupid. We made you, so therefore, you _belong_ to us. Period!” Another rough shove and Connor stumbled back, already knowing he was tipping over the edge of the sidewalk and into the road before it had fully happened. Thankfully, the driver noticed this and pulled to an immediate halt, pressing on their horn angrily.

“You...You could have killed me!” Connor shouted, stepping back onto the sidewalk. He resisted the urge to shove the man as hard as he could. Hard enough to break his skull on the pavement. The man snorted.

“You can’t kill what isn’t alive,” he said mockingly, moving back to grab the satchel from the others. They were all holding a different item of his, reading through his notebook and looking at the Ipod Hank had given him. He felt his Lithium Pump speed up, his pulse loud in his ears.

Anger. This had to be anger.

Just as he was about to lunge at them someone grabbed the satchel and yanked it away so hard it made the man stumble. Connor whipped his head around to face the newcomer, light flickering in surprise at the sight of Detective Reed holding his satchel and looking ready to punch some lights out.

“And just what the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing, huh?” he sneered, stepping towards them with a threatening air about him. “Attacking an innocent android, stealing his things, aaaaand for what? He didn’t do anything, dipshit.”

“This plastic prick has no place among us!” one of them shouted. Detective Reed whipped around to face them and threw the satchel at their face, making them stumble.

“First off all, this android is part of the Detroit Police, so you can all bet your asses you’re about to get charged with unprovoked assault. Second, and most importantly,” he punched the nearest protestor, waggling his hand around with a hiss at the sting as they fell on their ass. “Only I get to call him a Plastic Prick.” He locked eyes with Connor, the two of them staring a moment. “What? There something on my face? Get your shit and let’s get to the station, dumbass!”

“Yes, of course.” Connor grabbed his satchel and gathered up his books and other things they had scattered over the ground. He was surprised to find Detective Reed waiting for him just down the sidewalk, figured he’d have walked off by now. Connor hurried to catch up with him and the pair set off towards the station. “Thank you.”

“You tell anybody about this and I will write ‘Tin Can’ on your forehead in sharpie, got it?” Detective Reed threatened halfheartedly, giving Connor a small glare. Connor smiled.

“Got it.”

**Author's Note:**

> and that's a wrap!
> 
> thanks for reading, please leave a comment, be good and if you can't be good dont get caught
> 
> ~Petchricor


End file.
